Fugitive Father

by Jean Barrett

  “Then don’t you think it’s time to share it with me?”

  He didn’t answer her.

  Sensing that the nightmare was something she needed to understand, she tried to penetrate his reluctance. “We’re friends, aren’t we, Joel? Good friends.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can trust me to know about your dream. I promise not to tell anyone else about it. Maybe I can make you feel better about this imaginary bad place.”

  “It isn’t a pretend place,” he insisted. “It’s a real place. It’s this box thing, and I’m inside it, and I can’t get out because it keeps getting smaller and smaller. It’s squeezing me, and I’m real scared to be stuck in there because the bad guy is coming for me.”

  “What happens next?”

  “I don’t know.” He hesitated, then confided in an earnest voice, “That’s just in the dream, a’course, because when it happened for real I wasn’t stuck. I got out, and I got away, and the bad guy never came to hurt me like he hurt Grandpa.”

  Ellie was seized by a sudden chill as a horrifying suspicion occurred to her. Keeping her voice calm and patient, while seething with an inner urgency, she coaxed him to give her the rest. “Sweetheart, this is very important. I want you to tell me all about this—this box thing. Does it have a name?”

  “Uh-huh. Dumbwaiter. That’s what Carmen called it.”

  “Carmen is the housekeeper at your grandfather’s place back home, isn’t she?”

  “Uh-huh. Carmen told me I wasn’t ever to mess around with the dumbwaiter.”

  “But you did play in it,” she guessed.

  “Just the one time,” he confessed.

  “When was this?”

  “That day Carmen took me to the zoo. Only I never got to see the tigers. Carmen got one of her bad headaches right after we got there, so we had to go straight home so she could lie down.”

  “Did your grandfather know you were back home?”

  He shook his head. “Carmen said we shouldn’t bother him, because he was working in the library. But I think she was afraid to tell him we got home real early. Once before, he hollered at her for falling asleep in her room when she was supposed to be watching me.”

  “What happened next?”

  “She told me to play quietly in my room while she rested. But there wasn’t anything to do all by myself, and I was bored. That’s when I figured out about the dumbwaiter.”

  “What did you figure out?”

  “How to ride it up and down between floors. It was easy. I’d scrunch up inside it, and then I’d reach around outside and press one of the buttons just before the door was all the way down. The motor would start whirring, and away I’d go. It wasn’t spooky then. It was fun.”

  “When did it become spooky, Joel?”

  She could feel his reluctance again. She didn’t urge him this time. She gave him a moment to think about it, then he went on. “When I thought it would be a good idea to surprise Grandpa. I was gonna pop out and scare him. I thought he’d laugh about it. I thought he wouldn’t be mad about it like Carmen.”

  “I guess that means the dumbwaiter opened in the library on that floor.”

  “Yes, in this corner place.”

  Ellie thought he must be referring to an alcove. “But you didn’t pop out and surprise your grandfather, did you, Joel?”

  “I would’ve, ’cause the dumbwaiter got there just like I planned, and I got the door up, too. I was real quiet about it so Grandpa wouldn’t hear. I would’ve surprised him all right.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Ellie already knew, but she had to hear it from him to be certain.

  “Because Grandpa wasn’t alone. There was someone with him. Grandpa was mad and kept hollering.”

  “Could you see them?”

  “No, they were around the wall where the fireplace is.”

  “Did you hear what they were saying? Joel, this is important—did you recognize the other voice?”

  “I couldn’t tell. It was real low and hard to hear. Only Grandpa was loud. Then there was this funny sound, and Grandpa came down on the floor. I could see part of him. I could see his head. It was all bloody, and everything got quiet.”

  Dear God, the child had witnessed Howard Buchanan’s murder! And if the killer knew Joel had been hiding there in the dumbwaiter—

  “Sweetheart, I know this is very hard to talk about, but you need to tell me what happened after you saw your grandfather on the floor. Did you make any sound? Did this other person who was in the room find out you were in the dumbwaiter?”

  “He didn’t see me. I didn’t let him see me. I put the door down. I pushed the button and put the door all the way down. Then when the dumbwaiter got down in the kitchen I got out and ran. I was afraid he’d come after me so I hid in Carmen’s bathroom until she woke up.”

  The murderer must have heard Joel lowering the door of the dumbwaiter, must have heard the whine of the motor carrying him away to another floor.

  “Joel, have you told anyone else what you’ve just told me? Did you tell Carmen afterward?”

  “No. Ellie, do I have to talk about it anymore? I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  He was trembling again, his young mind terrified by the confusing mixture of nightmare and reality. No wonder he had been afraid of the slide and the laundry chute in her house and the elevator here. They were all confined places dealing with movement between floors, all of them associated with his shocking experience in the dumbwaiter.

  “No, sweetheart, you don’t have to talk about it anymore.” She held him close and rocked him comfortingly. “I’m sorry I made you tell me. But I had to know so I can do something to make these bad dreams go away.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I have to figure that out.”

  He was quiet for a moment. Then he asked in a small, worried voice, “Ellie, will I get in trouble because of the dumbwaiter?”

  “You won’t be in trouble, Joel. You did nothing wrong. Here, take Hobo. He looks lonesome all by himself.”

  She reached for the puppet on the bedside table and put it into his hands. Seconds later, clasping Hobo, he drifted off in her arms. She lowered him carefully onto his pillow, drawing the cover over him.

  She was shivering. Not just because of the frightening implications of what Joel had told her. It was cold in the room. One of the windows was partly open. She could see the curtains stirring in the breeze. She went and shut the window, then crossed to the hall door to make sure it was locked. Satisfied, she returned to the bed, checking the clock next to the night-light. It was after four. She had a lot of thinking to do, decisions that had to be made before daybreak.

  Perching on the edge of the bed again, she watched Joel as he slept. His story had jolted her, but it was time to put that impact behind her. Time to calmly evaluate the situation.

  Joel was in danger. There was no longer any reason to question that Noah had been right to sense, as he had all along, that his son was threatened, even though he hadn’t been able to identify a motive. Well, now the motive was very clear.

  Howard Buchanan’s secret visitor in the library must have realized, if not immediately, then eventually, that Joel had been hiding there in the dumbwaiter. The killer couldn’t be certain that the child could identify him, but must have realized that it was possible. Therefore, Joel had to be eliminated before his young mind sorted it all out, before he understood and found the courage to tell what he had either heard or seen.

  Not in St. Louis. There would have been too many questions asked if something happened to Joel right there in St. Louis. So Brett—because it had to be Brett—had managed to win custody of his nephew. Then he had removed him from the scene, taken him far away to a remote mountainside where an accident, such as a careless moment with a wild horse, wouldn’t be suspicious enough to be too carefully investigated.

  That had to be the explanation for everything that had been happening, even if it did leave a few unanswered
questions. There was simply no other way to account for it.

  There was something else that was even more certain. Every moment Joel remained in this house, he was in jeopardy. The local police? No, she couldn’t trust them to protect Joel, not when Brett was so rich and influential, and not with the unpleasant Lew Ferguson perhaps able to exert his own authority. There was only one person who would move heaven and earth to safeguard Joel.

  Sitting there in the dim, chill hours of the morning, with the house as silent as death around her, Ellie reached a vital decision. She wouldn’t wait another day. She would take Joel and run with him now. She wouldn’t stop to examine the morality of what she was about to do, either. Nor would she worry about what might happen to her because of her action. She was beyond any previous hesitation, because only one thing mattered. Joel had to be delivered immediately to his father.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She regretted having to wake Joel again, but it was necessary. They had to be far away from the estate before the house stirred. Ellie knew what would happen when she and the boy were found missing. There would be a widespread alarm and an immediate search for them. But by then she planned to have Joel with his father. As for what would follow…well, that was up to Noah. Once she had brought his son to him, her essential work was done. She could breathe a sigh of relief and let Noah take charge. That couldn’t come soon enough. But in the meantime…

  “Sweetheart,” she called to him softly as she leaned over him and shook him gently.

  He stirred and turned over on his back.

  “Joel, you have to wake up. It’s very important.”

  This time he opened his eyes and hunched up against the pillows. “It’s still dark out,” he objected in a sleepy voice.

  “I know, but I have to talk to you. Are you listening?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She took his hand and held it. “You have to get dressed. Both of us have to get dressed. We’re going to leave.”

  “Why?”

  She decided it was best to be honest with him. “Because I don’t think it’s safe for you in this place.”

  He was an intelligent child. He understood at once. “On account of what I told you about the dumbwaiter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are we going?”

  This was the hard part. His unbroken silence about his father had worried her from the start. If he resented Noah, even feared him…But there was no other choice.

  “We’re going to your father, sweetheart. He’s only a few miles from here waiting for you.”

  He stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief, his chin trembling. “Daddy is here?” he whispered.

  “Yes, and very worried about you. He wants you with him.” Was she doing the right thing? She prayed that she was. “Joel, it will be all right. He loves you very much, and you’ll be safe with him.”

  He didn’t ask her how his father could be nearby, or why. Those were mere details that were unimportant to his fiveyear-old mind. All that mattered was Noah’s presence close by. She held her breath and waited for his reaction.

  He smiled. The smile widened to a grin. For the first time since she had known him, he was genuinely happy. She breathed again in deep relief.

  “Can we go now, Ellie?” he asked her eagerly.

  “Just as soon as we’re ready.” He started to scramble off the bed, but she delayed him for a moment. “I have something I’d like you to tell me first, and then we’ll go.”

  “What?”

  “About your daddy. If you love him, if he’s the most important person in the world to you, and I can see now that he is, why wouldn’t you ever talk about him?”

  He went very still, gazing at her uncertainly.

  “I’ve been worried about that,” she appealed to him. “Can’t you tell me, since you’ve told me all the rest?”

  He was undecided for another few seconds, and then he made up his mind to trust her again. “It’s because I was scared to talk about him. I thought if I said anything about him, someone would find out I was in the dumbwaiter and make me say I heard Daddy kill Grandpa, and then Daddy would have to die instead of just go to jail, like in this movie I saw once on TV. But Daddy didn’t kill Grandpa, did he, Ellie? It wasn’t his voice in the room with Grandpa. I would have known Daddy’s voice ”

  She took him in her arms and hugged him reassuringly, distressed that all this time he had been carrying such an awful burden. No wonder he had never mentioned to anyone the episode in the dumbwaiter.

  “No, sweetheart, he never killed anyone, though there are people who think he did. But no matter what they think, he isn’t going to die. That was just an old movie, not real. What’s real is that you’re going away with him. Only now we have to hurry.”

  She considered packing a suitcase with some of his clothes, but decided in the end it would only prove to be a hindrance, especially if they encountered any difficulty in their flight. The one thing Joel refused to leave behind was Hobo, and she didn’t argue with that.

  Minutes later, dressed in warm clothes, with Joel clutching the puppet and Ellie her purse, they slipped away from their rooms. She could sense his excitement as they crept cautiously toward the staircase, guided by the weak glow of the few night-lights that were left burning throughout the castle.

  There was silence in the house as they made their way to the first floor, Joel clinging to her side. It was too early for anyone to be up yet, but Ellie was tense, half expecting a harsh challenge from the shadows as she led them toward a French door in the dining room.

  She had selected this particular exit because it opened off the side of the house, close to the driveway where her van was parked. Fumbling with the lock, she succeeded in opening the door. Seconds later, they stood on the stone terrace where she paused a moment to get her bearings.

  The morning was still dark, although there was a hint of daylight off to the east. A clamminess penetrated the air. Not surprising, considering there was a mist down in the valley. If it thickened into a serious fog, which it threatened to do, it could be a problem for them on the road.

  “Let’s go, Ellie,” Joel whispered, tugging impatiently at her hand.

  “This way,” she murmured, leading them through the shrubbery at the edge of the terrace and across the drive to her van.

  She had her key out as she slid behind the wheel after making certain that Joel was securely belted on his side. Her concern at this point was for the sound of the van’s engine when it came to life. Would it alert someone inside the house?

  It was an insignificant problem. There was something far more important for her to worry about. It revealed itself just before she inserted the key in the ignition, when she suddenly remembered to check the visor overhead. The gate opener should have been clipped there. It was gone.

  Peaches, she realized immediately. He had borrowed her car keys the evening before to move the van. He must have removed the gate opener to prevent her from leaving the estate anytime during the night when Lew Ferguson wouldn’t be out there waiting to shadow her. Without the gate opener, she and Joel were trapped.

  “What is it, Ellie? Why aren’t we going?”

  “The zapper for the gates isn’t here. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but until I can figure a way for us to drive out of—”

  “I know how to get another one without going back into the house.”

  “Where?”

  “From Uncle Brett’s car in the garage. It’s easy to get into the garage. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a smart little boy?” she asked as she followed him out of the van.

  “Sure, you did,” he responded with the same pluck and humor that she had experienced so often in his father.

  “All right, smarty-pants, lead the way, and let’s hurry.”

  She regretted the frustrating delay. It was already growing lighter in the east.

  “The door is through here,” he explained as they rounded th
e house and reached the gate of a fenced yard attached to the side of the wide garage.

  When Ellie started to unlatch the gate, there was a startling movement inside the enclosure. Something rushed at the gate, snarling furiously. Alarmed, she leaped back. It was Peaches’s bad-tempered hound, and he had no intention of letting her inside the fence. Front paws up on the gate, he growled a warning at her.

  Joel giggled. “It’s just Caesar, Ellie.”

  “He’s vicious without Peaches to control him. I don’t see how I’m going to—”

  “You wait here, Ellie. I’ll get the zapper.”

  Before she could stop him, he had shoved Hobo into her hands and was clambering over the gate like an agile monkey.

  “Joel, no! The dog is dangerous!”

  “Caesar wouldn’t hurt me. Would you, boy?”

  He dropped into the yard, and the hound was all over him. To her relief, Caesar’s attack involved a furiously wagging tail and an ecstatic tongue that licked every portion of the boy’s face he could reach. Joel pushed him off and raced toward the door of the garage, disappearing into its depths with the dog at his heels. Seconds later, he reappeared, triumphantly bearing the gate opener.

  “You’re not only smart, you’re very smart,” she praised him as he climbed back over the fence and handed her the opener.

  Caesar decided to be a menace of another sort as they started toward the van. Realizing he was being abandoned, he leaped at the fence, barking wildly. Someone inside the house was bound to hear him. There was no time to lose. Grabbing Joel’s hand, she began to run.

  PEACHES WAS a light sleeper, which suited his role as a bodyguard. Caesar’s barking awakened him almost immediately. He lay there for a moment, listening attentively and wondering if the dog’s clamor was worth his investigation. Then he heard another noise. The sound of a car engine.

  He was off the bed in a flash. His room was adjacent to Brett’s at the front of the mansion. By the time he reached the window overlooking the valley, the taillights of the vehicle were disappearing into the first switchback that descended the mountain in a series of long swoops. Brief though his glimpse had been in the murky light, he was certain it was the Matheson woman’s van.